


A Feathery Kiss

by billebob



Series: I've got your back; always [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, firstfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billebob/pseuds/billebob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Abby have a fight. Clarke leaves and finds a sanctuary.</p><p> [Based on a Tumblr prompt from BellarkeWritersNetwork.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feathery Kiss

**CLARKE AND ABBY**  are at it again. Fighting over what’s right for Clarke and Jack and Clarke being just a teenager and -

“Mom, don’t you get it? You don't need to make decisions for me anymore. I’m capable of doing things on my own,” Clarke says, frustrated. She rubs the crease between her brows and lets out a tired, long sigh. Abby starts to open her mouth, but Clarke stops her, raising her hand between them. “No, I’m done this conversation.” She ignores the look of irritation on her mother’s face and storms out of the medbay with Abby’s calls behind her telling her to come back. _Come back, come back. Clarke, please._

Her boots stomps on the hard ground as she weaves her way through the people milling about and doing their chores. She accidentally bumps into a civilian taking a swig of water and the bottle tips, drenching him. He curses at her but she pays no attention, and just continues to go past the people. She wants to get away, away from her mother, away from her people, away from all these eyes judging her, calculating her moves, calculating when she will break. A tear leaks out despite her will and she furiously rubs her cheek raw with her jacket which has months worth of grime on it. She just wants a break, is that too much to ask?

Clarke reaches the gate where two guards stand guard. “Move,” she says with force, her voice hoarse from the yelling match.

The guards cross their guns.

She clenches her fists and her nails dig into her skin. “Let me out or I’ll make sure the Chancellor hears about you not listening to her daughters demands.” Seeing the determination in Clarke’s eyes, the guard on the right steps back and opens the latch to the fence. The other guard protests but to no avail and they let Clarke pass.

“Be back in an hour or I'm alerting the Chancellor,” one of the guard calls out. She barely gives a nod of thanks before storming out the fence.

The leaves under her boots crunch as she makes her way into the woods. She steps on branches and twigs, filling the otherwise silent woods with noise. A fluttering of wings and a loud caw startles her and her heart rate picks up slightly. _It’s just birds,_ she thinks to herself.

After walking for a while, Clarke arrives at a clearing and pushing a heavy branch out of the way, a stream comes into view. Maybe a creek at best. Clarke takes a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs and releasing some of her tension. She walks towards the creek, feeling somewhat at peace and relaxed. The sweet and fresh atmosphere feels magical. She comes to a stop beside a tree overlooking the water and slides down beside it, her jacket catching with the bark.

After a minute of just deep breathing, Clarke crawls on the ground, not caring about getting her jeans stained, and cups some water into her hands before splashing her face with it. The cold water streaks down her face and takes some her headache away, leaving her alert and refreshed. Resting against the tree again, she absently wipes her jacket sleeve against her face, leaving a trail of grime.  

She likes this place. It’s quite, serenely and the perfect place for her to slip away if everything is getting a bit too much. Is it selfish of her to not tell anyone about it? Or maybe some already know of it’s existence, mustering a bit of courage and venturing out of the camp. It’s unlikely because not many civilians wants to leave the safety of Camp Jaha because of their wariness of the alliance between Grounder and Sky People.

After some time, Clarke hears the unmistakable crunch of leaves against boots and tenses, her hand wrapping around the hilt of the hunting knife she keeps on hand. Another crunch resounds in the silent woods. _Crunch, crunch, crunch._ Clarke springs up, ready to fight whoever it is-

It’s Bellamy. His rifle hangs by his side and he has his hands up in a surrender position. “It’s just me, Princess,” he says, his lips curling up into his signature smirk.

Clarke breathes heavily and she can feel her heart hammering inside her chest. “Oh.” She blinks, her breathing slowing down a bit. “I-I thought it was someone else,” she says, sliding down against the tree while Bellamy makes his way towards her.

“Nope, just old Bellamy.” He grins and sets his rifle beside him and takes a seat beside her. He sees the streak of mud on her cheek and leans in to wipe it away.

“What are-” Clarke starts and Bellamy’s finger accidentally grazes her lips and she feels an involuntary tingle slither down her spine.

“You have grime on your cheek,” he says, and there goes his lips again. Quirking up into that damn smile that Clarke loves so much.

Gaining her composure again, Clarke glances at his rifle and then flicks her gaze back to the gurgling creek. “Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he responds. A faint smile curls upon her lips and she knocks her knee against his. “Guard duty.” He clears his throat after answering her.

She rolls her eyes. “Guard duty out in the woods? Liar.”

“No, I swear, I-”

“Cut the act, Bellamy. I know my mom sent you here,” Clarke says, the smile dropping from her face, instead replaced with a tight lipped frown.  

“You guys fighting again?” he asks, gazing at the water and the wind ruffling the tree leaves. From the corner of his eye, he sees her clamp her eyes shut and let out sigh. She gives a tiny nod. “Want to talk about it?” A shake of a head. They sit in companionable silence for a while. The kind of silence that doesn't need words to fill it up, the kind that makes Clarke feel calm (or maybe that’s just Bellamy’s presence).  

“She just wants the best for you, Clarke.” He wants to reach for her, to hold her close but he can’t. So he just settles for pressing his thigh against hers, letting her know he’s here. He here for her and he’s got her back. Always.

“I know, but it’s all too much. Whenever we talk, whenever I look at her, I can't help but think about dad. I just, I-” her voice catches and she doubles over. Bellamy catches her, latches an arm around her and holds her. Clarke grips his shirt and she lets out a sob. She’s holding back, trying not to cry.

“Just let it out,” he whispers into her hair, rubbing her back in calming motions. Clarke’s never cried in front of him, heck he’s never seen her cry in front of anyone, so this, this feels personal and _goddammit_ he just wants to protect her. Protect her from her mom and the people judging her and take away her burden because she shouldn't be doing this alone.

Slowly, her crying fades away and realizing that she has her face stuffed in Bellamy Blake’s chest, Clarke springs away from him. She furiously rubs her tear tracked cheeks, feeling embarrassed. Her gaze lands on his wet shirt and she bites her lips. “Sorry for ruining your shirt,” she says, her voice a bit hoarse.

Bellamy just shakes his head and smiles. Smiles at this flustered Clarke, at this beautiful girl who fights so hard to succeed, at this girl who tries so hard to not let people get to her, at this girl who always puts others before herself, who loves furiously and endlessly and he feels himself fall for her. Over and over again. He leans towards her, rests his hands on her cheeks and swipes away the tears. “It’s okay, Princess, it’s okay,” he says, his lips curling up into a soft smile. He leans in, just slightly and brushes his lips against her. A light, feathery touch. His hands curl around her shoulders and she leans in and he holds her. Just holds her tight and he doesn't ever want to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first ever fic and it's probably really terrible. At first, I was overthinking everything, but then I was like screw it, I'm just gonna do whatever I please. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
